


The End of the Affair

by theimpossiblegeekygrrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Affairs, Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, HP: EWE, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Relationship(s), Sex, True Love, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theimpossiblegeekygrrl/pseuds/theimpossiblegeekygrrl
Summary: Three lives, entwined by pain though separated by circumstance. That is, until a chance meeting changes the course for two of them completely, affecting all of their lives forever ... EWE/AU.





	1. Three Lives

**_I desire the things that will destroy me in the end._ **

**_\- Sylvia Plath -_ **

 

It's hard to explain what happens to a relationship, over time. 

I walked into my life with Harry with an open heart and an open mind, so ready to finally love him openly and no longer have to worry about whether he was going to die tomorrow. We had high expectations of our future together, back when I was naught seventeen and he was naught eighteen years of age.

He lived with us after the War ended, while we were trying to rebuild our lives. He and Ron lived in his little room at the top of the stairs, while Hermione and I lived in my little room at the bottom of the stairs.  My parents were somewhere in the middle, separating us at night when the lights were out and the nightmares inevitably came.

None of us ever did take our N.E.W.T.’s, in the end, not traditionally since the school was closed. Mum tutored Hermione and me, while the boys were given a free pass at the Auror office to begin their training. I know they would have given Hermione that pass too, if she'd been interested, but of course she wanted to do things the right way before she entered Magical Law Enforcement.

I decided to become Healer after tending to the sick and watching so many people die needlessly in the Battle of Hogwarts,

_(and some lived needlessly, too – never forget that)_

some only because there were not enough knowledgeable hands to tend them.

When I was seventeen I began my five year Apprenticeship with St Mungo's.  Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I moved into Grimmauld Place against my parent's wishes. But we were of age, and though none of us were interested in getting married at the time, we all knew that would happen eventually.

Or, so we thought.

Ron and Hermione parted ways, though very amicably done, about a year later. 

They just grew apart, realizing they had no interest in each other outside of physical attraction.  At the end of the day it just wasn't enough for either of them.  Hermione moved out and found her own flat in Diagon Alley, while the three of us remained.

Ron left too not long after, moving into a flat not far from Grimmauld Place. He told us we needed our own space to be a couple.  Despite our protests that we wanted him there, he would hear none of it. So, for the first time ever, at eighteen and nineteen, it was just Harry and me together for the first time in our lives.

It was wonderful. To make love in the kitchen and not have to worry about someone walking in, to cook curry again (as Ron didn't like it), to even be able to walk about in just my knickers if I wanted to and not have to hear Ron scream "My eyes!": it was a triumph.

Harry and I got to know one another for the first time in a way we hadn't before. No longer were we Harry and Ginny, we were darling and dear, and even sometimes Merlin and Morgana. We would help each other study, since we were both so woefully behind in Potions, and sometimes would just sit and watch the other study just because we could.

That was five years ago.  

Five beautiful years of listening to my mother's incessant nagging about us not being married, of waking up next to the man I love every morning, of going to sleep every night knowing that I am loved in return. I now work for St Mungo's as a Healer, specializing in Spell and Curse Damage as well as Creature Induced Injuries.  All things that were needed on the battle field.

Even though there will never be another War

_(Oh Merlin please let that be true)_

it's how I've come to terms with it.  By knowing what needed to be known.

And yet ...

Sometimes the nightmares still come. Harry doesn't always wake up for them. As a full Auror now, he takes a Potion at bedtime to help him sleep as the days can be very rough and give way to sleepless nights. So I lay there, frightened and shivering with the memories of the dead I couldn't help, the memories of my dying friends that I couldn't save.

The memories of the faces, the innocent faces of the children who are now just a -

* * *

_\- memory is all he has, and all he'll ever have._

_He fought a war based on the memory of a woman with bright red hair that he longed to stroke with the spider-like hands of his youth, now given way to long, large hands that he was once told were elegant, especially when juxtaposed against his other less-than-desirable features._

_He survived the War (though only just) and lived in a self-imposed exile at St Charmaine's even though the Ministry owled daily, begging him to return as a hero._

_Their hero._

_He could not._

_What kind of hero was he?_

_What kind of man was he really?_

_A man who stood by, watching the students he swore to protect being tortured by his "friends"? "Friends" who were his worst enemies, dressed in the same robes he wore when he was forced so that he could stand before his Dark Lord._

_A man who mentally abused a poor child who had done nothing other than have the misfortune of being that redheaded woman's son with the Marauder who contributed to his worst memories._

_A man who started to care so little about life that he forgot to care for himself. No, not forgot. It was on purpose, self-neglect mixed with the abuse he let the Dark Lord heap on him instead of Lucius, Draco, or scores of others who he didn't want to see suffer._

_What kind of man is he? A man who almost died for love, or a malicious monster who eventually dies because of the hate in his heart?_

(Did he even care at all? Did he really?)

_His stay at St. Charmaine lasted much longer than he’d thought it would.  After he was healed from his injuries the administrators let him stay on in their lab, making Potions through all hours of the night. It was safe, and for the first time in his life he was very happy, doing what he loved in a place where no one really knew what a nasty bastard he truly was._

**(What kind of man was he then, when no one knew his name?)**

_He's back in London now, wandering through life as he does research for the Ministry. He wouldn't accept the warm welcome home.  Instead, he returned in secret about three years ago, setting up his lab in the bowels of the Ministry where no one could find him._

_The house in Spinner's End went to hell in his absence, and with no regret he sold it, deciding to rent a flat close to work.  It gave him the ability to leave again if he ever wanted to, though the allure of being home and among his on people was hard to deny._

_Before the dreams came._

_Dreams that were no longer of her face, as she was now only a distant memory. Now the dreams were of the children's faces, screaming in pain as he would not and could not do anything to help them while the Cruciatus Curse was cast by the Carrows. They were dreams of the dead surrounding him after his mind tipped past the Veil, just before he was dragged back._

_They were dreams of the kind of man he really was._

_An evil man. A greasy git. A right bastard._

_Not the great hero of legend, just a faulty man who -_

* * *

**\- dreams the same dream every night.**

**But what does it mean? How can it always be the same dream of work? He takes the Potion, just as asked, but he can't help but think that he's missing something.**

**When he wakes from the dream he always reaches for Ginny.  Usually she is awake too, happy that he has joined her for a midnight cuddle. Sometimes they make love, and it's as sweet and gentle as it's always been.**

_(Always.)_

**He's come to detest that word.**

**It reminds him of the man disappeared who fought for his Mum's memory.**

**What a stupid thing to do.**

**He didn't think so at first. Then it was noble, a story for legends. But now, after six years to reflect and no answers from the dead it's just …**

**Sad. Pathetic really.**

(I'll always love you, from the top of my head, to the bottom of my feet, you know that don't you?)

**It's an absurd notion that love will last forever, in his mind at least. He loves Ginny, but what if he woke up tomorrow and those feelings were gone, like when he was infatuated with Cho?**

**Love is transient. Love is fluctuant and fluid. Love is merely a silly notion for school boys and girls.**

**He hasn't asked Ginny to marry him. He probably never will. They are both happy enough, and why do they need a parchment of paper to make it official when another sheet of parchment could nullify the whole thing?**

**Love is pain, in the end.**

**Look what good it did his Mum and Dad. Love killed them. And for what, so he could live and almost die twice? Some sacrifice, when it could just as easily been Neville. Just as easily been any other boy to endure the pain of being the Chosen One, being**

(the only one who ever made me feel like this, oh please don't ever stop …)

**the one to save them all.**

**It still hurt. Every day.**

**Not the scar, not the visible scar that told his tale.**

**No, the scars that hurt were the scars in his mind that no one could see, the ones that never seemed as though they would heal properly. They were the reason he had to take the Potion at night and dream that stupid dream. In triplicate. Over and over again.**

**Love kills.**

**Does he love Ginny anymore?**

**Did he ever really?**

_(What kind of man is he?)_

(Will the pain ever end?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on FFnet as a WIP, added here with corrections and eventual completion.
> 
> As always, not mine. Just playing in JK's playground.


	2. Bodies in Motion

My arm reached out to feel for Harry's thin body. He was never there, as he moved so quickly and quietly that he never woke me, to even once. My hand met only our softly worn cotton sheets, now cool from being unoccupied.

It's a courtesy I knew I should have appreciated, and more often than not I did. But on mornings when the previous night’s dreams had been especially bad, I wished Harry was with me, arms open for a quick snuggle.

Last night was the worst I'd had in a while.

Tonks and Remus were there, their faces as still and blameless as marble angels when we came upon their bodies. I'd wept for the woman (my friend!), who I'd fought beside as much as I'd wept for the man who'd been one of my favorite professors in school.

The memory of their faces so fresh in my mind made me ache.  I sat up in bed and took a sip of water from the glass Harry’d left for me, sitting next to a cup of tea and a wrapped pastry from the shop down the road. When I touched the small package, it was warm against the pads of my fingers.

I didn't even have to get out of bed to know that he'd already gone. 

The house always felt different when Harry wasn't there. 

I sighed as I took a bite of my breakfast.  He'd brought me a scone with little dried strawberry bits, my favorite. Harry could be very thoughtful like that, when he wanted to be.

As I stretched and ate, I thought about hiding under my warm red quilt for the rest of day, reading back-issues of Witch Weekly, but I knew that wouldn't do at all.  So much to be done, and so few people to do it.  Tea in hand, a fragrant Earl Grey, I walked into our bathroom and looked in the mirror. The circles under my eyes weren't bad yet as I was only having bad dreams and not nightmares.  I just looked tired, and tired was acceptable.

A little patter of noise came from the bedroom.  I froze, wishing Harry was still here. I grabbed for my wand, and with a groan I realized it was still under my pillow.

_Dammit._

"Who's there," I said with a loud, shaky voice as I put my hand on the crystal door knob and slowly began to turn it.

"It's just me, Ginny. Relax," Harry called out, just on the other side of the door.

I sighed and opened the door, putting on a cheerful smile as he leaned in for a quick snog.

"I forgot my watch again," he said sheepishly.  His green eyes flashed before he walked to the dresser and retrieved the slightly battered time piece my parents had given him for his seventeenth birthday.

"Will you be home for dinner?" I asked, leaning in the doorframe as he cleaned his glasses and ran his hands through his unruly black hair.

"Probably not tonight," he said, frowning at the sad expression on my face. "It won't be much longer, though, and I'll be home every evening."

I nodded. I knew it was part of the package, being the girlfriend of an Auror at this stage in his career.  Tonks once told me how trying it had been for her in the beginning, since the office was still trying to weed out the weak among them. If Harry could make it past the next year ...

"Do you want us to have a plate ready for you when you come home, or – "

"No, that's okay. I'll grab something at the office; don’t have Kreacher go to any trouble," he said quickly before he pressed another kiss against my forehead.

I nodded and smiled. "I'll see you tonight?"

"I may be late. Don't wait up, okay?"

I nodded again, trying not to wear my heart on my sleeve when I said, "Tomorrow then?"

"Yes," he said, and this time he smiled brightly, making his eyes glow. He added conspiratorially, "And tomorrow we’re both off."

This time when I smiled, I knew it touched my eyes too. He kissed me goodbye, just a peck on my cheek that still made me blush a little as his lips slowly moved to my -

* * *

**\- mouth.**

**"And we can do whatever we want tomorrow, can't we?" Ginny murmured against his lips.**

**Harry could smell stale wine on her breath.**

**He nodded, trying not to look distracted when he said, "Anything at all."**

**The door was only four steps away, and he counted each one of them before looking back. He took in her mussed hair, her red lips, and the rosy blush that stained her cheeks, silently willing himself to feel something a little deeper than the slight warmth that ran through him at the sight of her.**

**Wasn't it supposed to feel different? Or was this really what love felt like?**

**Eyeing the half-empty cup of tea and the mostly eaten scone, he also caught a glimpse of a wine glass under the bed. He closed his eyes and frowned as he walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.**

**The walk to the front door seemed too long, and he ended up running to it, bypassing Kreacher who had lifted a hand to say goodbye. Nodding his head at the old elf, he opened the door and slammed it behind him before he Apparated to the -**

* * *

_\- Ministry now, don't you?" the whore asked breathily._

_Severus tried not to roll his eyes, still his automatic reflex when someone asked a stupid question.  "Of course I do. It's been in the papers, hasn't it? Or did you just want to hear it from the source?" he asked, his voice gruff as they climbed the stairs to her room above The White Wyvern._

_"It's just that most people from the Ministry come to see me at night, not first thing in the morning," she said, sounding contrite as she opened the door marked with a single red triangle._

_"I set my own hours," he replied, and they left it at that._

_They walked inside. The room was very small; he'd expected no less. The bed dominated the space, ridiculously large and covered in red damask silk. The only other furnishings were a small dresser and a table next to the door, both made of dark mahogany and chipped beyond repair._

_"Do you live here?" he asked, shutting the door behind him and setting meticulous wards against noise and visitors._

_"Do you really care?" she asked._

_Severus shook his head, but she'd already turned to remove her earrings. He saw how very red her hair was. It was too lurid to be a glamour, and he wondered idly if she had it dyed in a salon like a Muggle. When she turned around, he saw that thick white powder on her face had cracked around her mouth.  The crimson stain on her lips slid onto her teeth when she smiled._

_Was anything about this woman real?_

_Touching his neck and feeling the missing flesh that no glamour could completely hide, he decided to stop asking questions. It didn't matter; he knew he was no catch either._

_"Come here," she whispered._

_Severus nodded and walked into her arms. They wrapped around him like vines of Devil's Snare, and for a minute he almost lost his breath._

_"What should I call you?" he asked._

_"What do you want to call me?"_

_Severus frowned, trying to think of any name that might make sense to him, but nothing came to mind. Not even hers …_

_"Let's dispense with the formality of names," he said, wrenching himself out of her arms so that he could undress himself._

_She shrugged and began to work the buttons on her purple robes. Severus caught her eyeing him with interest when he unknotted his cravat._

_"I've heard its bad," she whispered._

_"Do the women in your profession compare notes?" He got impatient with the buttons on his shirt, casting a spell to loosen them instead._

_"Yes," she said, completely unashamed as she removed her clothes._

_His mouth went dry as he looked at her full breasts, the gentle curve of her hips and stomach, and the wet patch of curling hair between her thighs, noting that it was as black as the hair on his own body.  "And yet you still desire me," he said._

_"Yes," she whispered._

_"Why?"_

_She shrugged again as she leaned against the bed, arching her back slightly and showing off her heavy breasts.  "You are the most powerful wizard in the country," she said._

_He snorted as he put his shirt and coat on a hook on the wall. The buttons on his pants were an easy task, and soon he was as nude, save for the cloth on his neck._

_"Do you really want to see?" he asked, narrowing his eyes._

_She nodded, her expression a mixture of nerves and excitement._

_"Later," he said as he pushed her down against the bed and -_

* * *

_-_ climbed up the steps to the Third Floor. 

It was my day to cover the Potions and Plant Poisoning Unit. I was one of the few Healers who had cross trained, so whenever one unit was short I went to where I was needed, even though I hadn't yet taken my specialization exams in Potions and Plant Poisoning.  I had been a full Healer for less than six months and had already passed the Spell Damage and Creature Induced Injury exams easily.  Still, I wanted a bigger challenge, so I had decided to prepare for a third specialty even though I’d always had trouble with Potions.  Professor Snape had been an amazing teacher, one of the best behind Professor Lupin, but I'd only had him for four years.  Professor Slughorn had taught me well, and my mother's instruction had been good enough to help me pass the Potions N.E.W.T., but to pass the MediHELL exam I needed more than what my halted education had provided.  As a result, I was studying every time I had a chance to sit down.

_This must be the way Hermione feels._

I smirked as I walked to the ward desk. That's when I heard the -

* * *

_\- screams._

_Severus looked away and recast the glamour while she trembled at the edge of the bed. He cast a Cleansing Charm over his body, then cast one on hers for good measure. He redressed quickly, taking the utmost care to retie his cravat before turning to look at the sobbing woman._

_"They – they didn't –" she moaned, turning green. "They didn't tell me it was that bad!"_

_"Of course they didn't. They didn't remember," he hissed, grabbing his wand from the pocket in his coat. "And neither will you."_

_Severus cast the spell, and she quieted as her breathing slowed. A gentle smile spread upon her mouth, and she closed her eyes with a happy sigh. He turned back to the door, cancelling the wards._

_"What’s your name?" he asked, not bothering to look at her._

_"Jane," she murmured._

_He nodded and set the galleons on the table before he left, shutting the door quietly behind him._


	3. Afternoon Tea

**_Ginny Weasley's Private Pain  
_ ** **_by Rita Skeeter  
_ ** ******_Special Correspondent to Witch Weekly_**

**_It has come to my attention that after almost a decade, Harry Potter has not proposed matrimony to the poor girl who waited for him for years! Close friend to the couple, Pansy Parkinson, reports that, "Harry will never propose to her now, and even if he did Ginny would never accept. They are too happy shacking up in that horrible hidden house of his."_ **

**_Indeed!_ **

**_This correspondent can't even divine the location of the house he inherited from his Godfather, famed (and eventually cleared of the charges, posthumously) murderer Sirius Black.  The Black family home has long been rumored to have been placed under a Fidelius Charm by the deceased and controversial Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore._ **

**_My question is this: with the War over and Black having been murdered in the Department of Mysteries, why not lift the charm and live life without such a grand level of secrecy?_ **

**_What do you have to hide, Harry Potter, other than the fact that you won't make an honest woman out of poor -_ **

* * *

\- _Ginny_ , I can't believe you’re reading that trash. Put it down!" Hermione reached over our table, trying to snatch the magazine from my hands.

I frowned and shook my head, reading over the article completely before handing it over to her.  "I can't help it Hermione. It seems that I know so little about my life!  There is so much to learn from my 'close friend' Pansy," I said, not bothering to cover the ice in my voice as I poured myself a fresh cup of tea.

Hermione and I had met at the Tea Room in St Mungo's, as we did as often as our schedules would permit. Sometimes it was three teas a week, sometimes five (and on bad weeks only one), but we always did manage at least that one so that we could catch up.

"Pansy is a total cunt," Hermione said flippantly as she opened the gossip rag and read the story herself.

I nodded in agreement as I took a cucumber and dill sandwich from the tray, nibbling it as I watched her eyebrows work while she read the article herself.  "What do you think?" I asked when she threw it to the side.

"Well, I think she has a source on the inside of your group of friends," Hermione sighed. "No one outside of the Order knew about the Fidelius Charm. The Death Eaters guessed as much when we occupied the home, but there was no way they could have known that Dumbledore was involved, even if she got it wrong that he was the one who placed it. At least she doesn't know it's unplottable …" She tapped her teeth with her fork, very deep in thought. "Do you want me to see if I can stop her with an injunction? It may not stick, but it could be worth a shot."

"What's the point?" I said, shaking my head. "She'll just go after _you_ next. I can take the gossip. It's not the first time Harry has had to deal with her, and I think it's _funny_ ," I said, giving a laugh that sounded false even to my own ears.

Hermione flicked her eyes at me, unconvinced. "When is he going to ask you to marry him, Gin?"

"Harry doesn't believe in marriage, and neither do I for that matter," I said, shrugging.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed. "So all the doodles on your parchments in school about ‘Mr and Mrs Harry Potter’ – that was all just a girl’s dream, was it?"

I looked away and blinked. _Dammit_. I'd forgotten that she had the memory of a well-tended Pensieve.

"And last year when Luna got married to Neville?  When you looked around the wedding dresses at Madam Malkin's like a hungry woman looking for bread – _that_ was all because you didn't believe in marriage?" she asked, peering at me from over her cup.

I grimaced before I looked at her again. "They've taught you some very bad habits in Law Enforcement, you know."

Now it was she who shrugged.

"That has nothing to do with it, honey," she said softly, putting down her tea and taking a biscuit that looked like it was filled with raspberry jam. "I've known you since you were eleven years old. You've been my only female friend for almost fourteen years. I know you a lot better than you realize, and I bet you can say the same thing about me."

I grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed my eyes as I recalled our late night talks pertaining to Harry, Ron, and even Viktor Krum. Of course, not all the conversations had been about boys. After my first year at Hogwarts, I don't know if I would have made it through another without sneaking into her dorm so that I could talk when the dreams and memories of Tom Riddle got especially bad.

"I love you, Hermione, you know that don't you?" I asked.

"I know," she said, scooting her chair closer to mine and slipping an arm around my waist. "All that before, about not believing it?  That's load of codswallop, isn't it?"

I nodded before saying, "I want to believe it, Hermione, because it's what he wants me to believe, but a few weeks ago I just -

_\- suddenly appeared in his laboratory, like he always did after a morning dalliance._

_Severus hadn't lied to the whore; they did let him keep his own hours. Some days he worked from eight to five like a normal Ministry drone; others he appeared in the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep, working for twenty hours plus before finally returning to his flat. His superiors didn't really care when he showed up or when he left, as long as he gave them the results they desired._

_Staring into the cauldron bubbling with lime green sludge, he tried to decide what ingredient would activate the moonstone, allowing it to give the potion the dream changing properties that had been requested. He walked to his new wall of horrors, considering a cut from the hoof of a fetal pig before examining the Blast Ended Skrewt he'd coaxed out of the Forbidden Forrest._

_Severus found his answer in the precious, delicate hairs taken from a Sphinx. Just one, and it would help unwind any riddle a dreaming mind.  Into the cauldron it went, and with twenty clockwise stirs he was satisfied with the results. Setting an Alarm Charm for an hour, he sat down at his desk with his notes, updating his progress. That was an easy task, and after he littered the parchment with his spiky scrawl, he sat back in his chair, thinking about the morning._

_It had been good to feel alive in the arms of a woman. Every time he visited Knockturn Alley he told himself it would be the last, that in the future he would need to get familiar with his own hand and imagination.  For a while it would be enough, until the nights got too lonely and the dreams made it unbearable for him to do anything other than float from place to place, merely existing instead of living._

_But even after a few hours of sex and the cold embraces he paid so dearly for, Severus knew he still wasn't living. It was worth it for the release and to pretend that someone desired him ... had waited up for a midnight romp, or wanted an early morning fuck before work._

_Severus caught just a whiff of sickly sweet perfume on his coat and muttered a quick Scourgify, ridding himself of it as quickly as he had parted with the twenty galleons he’d paid her with._

_He let himself pity the woman briefly as he tugged at the tightly wound cravat on his neck, wishing he could loosen it just a little.  However, that was a risk he would never take in public, not even at home if he could help it. He looked at the calendar on the wall and realized his check up at St. Charmaine's would be in two weeks. Arrangements would have to be made according to -_

* * *

**\- the schedule with the Ministry office is all wrong. Hello? Earth to Ron?" Harry asked, looking at the redheaded occupant at Ron’s desk.**

**But the blue eyes that looked up did not belong to Ronald Weasley, and the face was far too pleasing to be his best mate's mug. Harry swallowed as he felt a burn in his chest that he hadn't felt since -**

* * *

\- Hogwarts's good old Alchemy textbook is probably what you need."

I stared at Hermione, trying to figure out why on Earth I hadn't realized it myself. She was correct of course; Alchemy was indeed a huge part of advanced Potion making, especially with the Potions that caused the most damage. Ingredients transmutated in a pinch, reestablishing their form as the solution aged, causing more harm than good in the end.

"You are a genius," I said, drinking my next to last swallow of tea before swishing the cup.

"I can’t believe you still do that," Hermione scoffed.  Defiantly, she drank the rest of hers in a defiant gulp.

I said nothing as I looked at the tea leaves, trying to discern the shapes that they made. I thought I saw a hair comb, a moon, and a mask.  None of it made sense – Harry and I were happy when all was said and done, weren't we? I

"Back here tomorrow?" she asked.

"No, I'm off tomorrow.  Harry and I are taking a mini-break, but just staying at home.”

"Shag him rotten," Hermione laughed.

"Next week?”  

"Monday," she agreed, winking at me and giving me a hug. “Then you can tell me all about it over -

* * *

**-tea?" she asked.**

**Harry nodded his head and took the cup. The warmth had spread from his chest down to lower places, and he was fighting very hard to stay under -**

* * *

_\- control._

_The only book he had on Potions this dark had been a Dark Arts text from the fourteenth century, lost after the Battle of Hogwarts._

_Severus sighed and rubbed his eyes.  That meant that he would have to face going out after all. Flourish and Blotts carried that book, but only sold it if one was a connected to the Ministry or to Hogwarts. He sneered at the identification card that lay on his desk, watching his picture sneer back at him with equal vitriol. He hated using that stupid thing, but needs must, and he needed this book to finish his damn work._

_"Later," Severus said to no one as he sipped the tea that the kind little woman from the upper levels brought him every afternoon. He sighed happily as he realized she'd brought him his favorite raspberry jam biscuits, as well as a few of the crisp crackers she made herself._

_The woman was old enough to be his grandmother and reminded him of that frequently. Sadly, he realized that she may be the closest thing he had to a friend._

_He didn't even know her name._

_Sighing again, he vowed to fix that tomorrow._

_His Alarm Charm chimed.  As Severus stood, he tucked a black strand of hair behind his ear, the one that always seemed to escape his queue, and took a bite of the best damn -_

* * *

\- woman I ever met," Mr. Filch said, shivering under my hands.

"Just drink this, sir, and you'll feel better by tomorrow. I promise," I said.

I propped him up in the bed and tipped the vial to his lips, listening to him swallow every drop.

"What did those brats give me this time?" he asked, exhausted as his frail body fell back against the pillows.

"We'll figure it out, but if it's the same as your last visit the potion will fix it in a trice," I assured him as I stroked the hair from of his sweaty face.

"Best damn Weasley of the bunch, you are," he yawned.

I took his chart from the bedside and wrote very specific notes concerning his treatment. He was snoring by the time I left the room. When I checked my watch it was half-past five, and time for me to call it a day. I went to my office and grabbed my cloak, bracing myself for the icy cold November wind outside. It had sleeted earlier, so I didn't even bother taking off my veil as I ran down the stairs.

"Where are you headed, dear?" asked the sweet woman who ran the tea shop as I passed her.

"Flourish and Blotts.”


	4. Books and Dinners

"Can I help you?" 

I wrapped my black cloak tightly around me, hiding my bright robes.  "I need the Hogwarts Sixth and Seventh Year books on Alchemy, please," I said, fiddling with my gloves a little as the clerk looked at me oddly.

"A little old to be a student, aren’t you?" he asked.

"I'm studying for an upper level exam," I said. "I didn't get to take Alchemy in school, after the Battle."

He smiled sympathetically.  "We usually don’t reorder the school’s books until summer, so our stock is a little low.  Would you would like to look around for a minute while I look for them?"

I nodded and walked towards the back of the store, where I thought I remembered the Dark Arts section had been. There was a fourteenth century text I’d read about in a footnote to Advanced Potion-Making that might be beneficial. Hopefully, it would have scores of information about not only Potions, but also about Alchemy in Potions-Making as well.

I browsed the titles once I knew I was in the right spot and found it rather quickly. It was the last one, so I was in luck indeed.  It was a reproduction of course, as the original was surely behind glass in a museum, but the text probably had its last printing a hundred years ago. The crisp, yellowing pages had the slightly musty scent that would drive Hermione mad.

I hugged it to my chest and let myself wander around, but stopped when I thought I caught a familiar scent in the air. Clove cigarettes (my greatest weakness), sandalwood, a trace of mint, and something woodsy like cedar made me nostalgic for school.  Frowning, I looked around and tried to find the source, all but bumping into the clerk.

"I have the Sixth Year book, _Alchemy and Transmutation for Beginners_ , but I'll have to order the Seventh year book for you, miss," he said, passing the large book to me. "Can you come back next Tuesday?"

I nodded and followed him to the counter, setting both books in front of him.

"I can only sell a book on the Dark Arts if you are employed by the Ministry or Hogwarts," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.

I opened my cloak and revealed my robes, pointing to the Bone and Wand badge that identified me as a Healer.  Even though I worked for St Mungo’s, all Healers were employees of the Ministry of Magic.

"Fair enough," he said. "That'll be five galleons, ten sickles, and five knuts."

I took out my coin purse and counted out the amount for him as he wrapped up the books in a heavy parchment bundle, protecting them from the damp, cold air outside.  The sky was darkening quickly, and I was ready to be home. Kreacher had promised me a good roast for dinner tonight and since Harry would be gone, he's given me a little wink when told me he'd make the gravy extra spicy, just the way I liked it.

I had just left the shop when I heard the voices, one very calm and the other quite angry, coming from within.

"I must have left at the perfect time," I muttered as I Apparated back to -

* * *

\- _the only place that carries this book, and you mean to tell me you_ just _sold the last one?  While I was in this very store looking for it?" Severus asked._

_"Yes, Master Snape, she left just a minute ago. I'll have to order another one for you," the clerk patiently said.  “You’ll have it next week.”_

_Severus tapped his foot as the clerk unrolled a parchment and took the order.  Even though he didn’t mean to snoop, he’d learned to read upside down during his tenure at Hogwarts.  His eyes drifted over the words, seeing a familiar title:_ Advanced Alchemy and Transmutation Techniques _. He could probably do with a new copy of that as well, since his own was about to fall apart._

_"Yes, Master Snape," he said, adding a hash mark next to the title. "That'll be three galleons, ten sickles, and four knuts."_

_Severus gave him the amount requested, catching the man eye his neck._

_"Curious?" he asked scathingly as he let his hands drift up to his cravat._

_The man shook his neck and put the money in the register, muttering something about needing to Floo the orders._

_Severus frowned as he went back to the Dark Arts section, deciding he might as well leave with something if he couldn't get either of the books he wanted. He caught the fleeting scent of something comforting and oddly familiar, though for some reason he couldn't place the fragrance. Orange blossoms, citrus fruit, vanilla biscuits, and the sweet smell of raspberries made him remember a long ago Potions class that must have had some significance to him. Perhaps an old student had been in the store not too long ago. He sighed, and went back to searching for something -_

* * *

\- **more?" Harry whispered.**

**It always felt so wrong to do this, even when it was so very, very right. He felt alive in this moment, so very -**

* * *

\- cold outside?"

I walked through the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, so happy to be out of the cold that I almost wept with joy.  Kreacher was there waiting for me, asking me if needed anything to help warm up as he removed my wet cloak and took the parcel from my hands.

I accepted the offer of a glass of red elf-made wine, which I usually had with dinner when Harry wasn't around to check over my choice of drink. If he had it his way I'd drink nothing but Butterbeer for the rest of her life, and woman could not live on Butterbeer alone.

I took the glass from Kreacher, who had already left a bottle on the dining room table in case I wanted another glass when dinner was ready, about ten minutes. That would give my just enough time to change out of my robes into something less green.

Careful not to spill my wine, I walked up the staircase and into our bedroom, taking off my robes the entire way.

"Indecent trollop!" Madam Black yelled from her portrait.

I cringed as I shut the door, blocking out the voice. I put my slightly damp robes in the laundry, and with a little giggle removed my sensible white undergarments as well. The top drawer of my dresser is where my more imaginative knickers made their home, my newest set bought in a Muggle department store a few months ago. Harry and I had been so busy that I hadn't had the chance to show them off yet, and I decided that tonight would be the night, once he made it home.

The red lace of the knickers barely covered anything, and the bra (if one could call it that) barely held up my breasts. I put them both on, and from the wardrobe picked out the black dress robes that I bought from Madam Malkin's a few weeks ago. The fabric was a light matte jersey, and it caressed my curves as the hem flared saucily at the knee. It wasn't quite the dress for this weather, being sleeveless and cut so low.  However, since I wouldn't be getting back out tonight and the house was warm, I decided that it didn't really matter. 

I frowned when I looked in the mirror. My once vibrantly red hair had been doing something my mother delicately called ‘browning’. In short, I was no longer a ginger like the rest of my family.  My hair was shifting to a dark auburn, and sometimes looked plainly brown. Mum said it had happened both her mother and Auntie Muriel, but knowing that didn't make it any easier.  When I looked in the mirror anymore it was as though I were looking at a -

* * *

\- _stranger things have happened, haven't they, Severus?" Lucius asked over dinner at The White Wyvern._

_Severus frowned and picked at his peas, having already eaten his beef and pudding. He wondered just how long he could properly wait before ordering the treacle sponge, his favorite dessert._

Oh fuck it.

_He waved at the waitress, indicating what he wanted before shoving his plate away._

_"You don't seem like yourself," Lucius continued, abandoning the remains of his spinach as he gave the waitress the same request._

_"How would you know?" Severus answered._

_Lucius looked up sharply, his eyes turning a very icy shade of silver as he ground his jaw._

_"Whose fault is that? You've been back for three years, and this is the first time we've supped in all that time!"_

_Severus shrugged wearily as the waitress brought them each a plate of the golden sponge along with a large dish of custard. Both men sighed happily as they tucked in, each taking a bite._

_"They do make the best desserts here, but it won't get you from answering any questions," Lucius said, licking a smear of custard from his lip._

_"Indeed," Severus said.  He wished that he hadn't called on his old friend this evening, and instead had just gone back to his flat and -_

* * *

\- sat at the dining table, slowly eating the delicious dinner Kreacher had prepared.

"More pudding, Miss Ginny?" he asked. "Kreacher can make a fresh batch."

"No, thank you," I replied.

"Is there anything Kreacher can do for his Mistress?"

I played with my fork a little, smashing the peas he insisted on preparing though he knew I wouldn't eat them, and asked, "Can you pop over to Diagon Alley and bring me back a pack of clove fags?"

Kreacher shifted on his feet nervously.

"Master Harry doesn't like it when Miss Ginny smokes," he said. "Kreacher almost had to burn his hands on the stove last time, 'cause Master Harry was so upset."

"Then I'll go later," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Kreacher cracked out of sight, returning just as quickly with a pack in hand.

"Kreacher kindly asks that his mistress stops after he casts the Cleansing Charms," he said.

I nodded and lit one of the sweet cigarettes, inhaling the smoke as I pushed my plate away. I wondered what Harry was doing, then remembered him mentioning that he and Ron had been working on a lead.   They were trying to find the last two Death Eaters on the run – Macnair and Mulciber – who were rumored to be hiding on an unplottable island near Greece. More time away, is what it would mean, if they were finally able to pinpoint their whereabouts.

Not that I minded.

Not really.

At least, I didn't want to mind.

I took another drag and leaned against the high backed chair. Sleep was already trying to sneak up on me, and it was only eight o'clock. Pathetic, considering I used to be the life of any -

* * *

\- **party to this. You've got to come clean with her," Ron said, exasperated.**

**Harry cracked his neck and rubbed it, as it was sore after his previous labors.**

**"Just like you came clean with Hermione about that dalliance you had with Parvati before the two of you broke up?" he asked mockingly.**

**Ron's face colored slightly before he replied, "That was different. We were already seeing other people. Ginny is my sister, mate. Surely that means something."**

**Harry leaned back in his chair, putting his feet on his desk and sighing all the while.**

**"It means something, Ron. Ginny means everything to me – you have to know that. It's just that, sometimes I just get –"**

**"To feeling like a total arse and decide to bugger half the girls from Hogwarts?" Ron finished.**

**Harry shot him a withering glance as he pushed his glasses up his nose.**

**"No, Ron, that's not it at all," he said. "I was going to say that sometimes I just get to feeling like I'm in a cage … and a quick shag fixes it, and I'm alright again."**

**"And what about Ginny?"**

**"What about her?" Harry asked, getting annoyed. "She's the one I come home to at night, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her."**

**"Harry," Ron said, walking over to his desk.  He sat on the edge as he put his hands in his pockets. "Do you love her anymore?  Because from the sound of it, it's almost like you don't care."**

**Harry rolled his eyes and muttered, "Of course I love her."**

**"If you say so," Ron said.  Turning his back to Harry, he sat down at his own desk and bent over the maps they'd been examining most of the day.**

**Harry felt bile rising in his throat as he realized it was the first time he'd purposefully, bald faced -**

* * *

\- _lied when he said he needed to go to the loo. Instead, he ducked out the back door and Apparated back to his flat, which was under the protection of a Fidelius Charm._

_Severus looked around at his surroundings. They were just as cold as his home in Spinner's End had been. The only warmth came from the richness of the books that lined every inch of the living space. His worn leather armchair and sofa were warm too, he supposed, and would have been more so if there was a single picture, letter, flower – anything that would let an outsider know a person lived here, and that it was not a library.  The bedroom was perhaps worse.  Just a solitary bed and nightstand with an alarm clock, though the bed was a monstrosity that he'd transfigured since the dreams often left him falling out of anything smaller._

_He walked into the en suite and removed his robes, grimacing at the sight of the scars on his neck.  Turning from his reflection quickly, he drew himself a bath, taking care to make it extra hot. His muscles were burning with aching exhaustion, and he pulled out a cedar scented liniment to rub into his sore skin while he waited._

_When the bath was full, he let himself sink into the steaming water and lit a fag, closing his eyes against the light of the too bright candles. Almost against his will his mind started to wander, drifting over the events of the day, and to his brief dinner with Lucius._

_As much as he missed his few friends from before, he still wasn't ready to face them._

_Perhaps he never would be._

_Maybe one day, he would finally become content with his dreary little -_

* * *

\- life," I sighed, wriggling with pleasure as I let the warm water course down my body.

Maybe it was a good thing Harry wasn't home yet. Kreacher had cast charms over the house to rid it of any odor, and for good measure I had decided to take a long, hot shower.

I leaned against the marble wall, a little drunk and wobbly as I washed my hair with the raspberry shampoo Hermione gave me last Christmas. When I was clean, I turned the water off, shivering as I wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel. Casting a quick drying charm over my hair, I decided to surprise Harry completely and let him find me starkers when he finally decided to come home for the night.

I sighed as I slipped into the cool sheets, and grabbed my glass from the table, sipping the wine as I perused my new book. Eventually, I fell asleep in that position, and when -

* * *

\- **Harry walked in, he saw Ginny naked from the waist up, curled over a book and completely asleep.**

**He smiled softly as he took the book from her hands and set it on the table next to the half empty glass of garnet liquid. Shaking his head, he reminded himself to ask Kreacher not to let her have so much wine with her dinner. Quickly, he tucked her into the bed, ignoring her nude form, before walking into the bathroom that smelled nauseatingly of fruit.**

**Turning the shower on, he grabbed his own soap, which smelled of nothing, and no one.**


	5. Dreams

"Shhhh, it'll be all right. I promise."

Lavender's wavy, formerly honey-blonde hair was matted dark red with her own blood. It was the only color I could see in the dim light; not even the red of her school tie was visible in the smoke around us.

She shook her head, barely stirring as I cast a diagnostic charm over her body, needlessly as my senses told me everything I needed to know. Almost every bone in her body was broken, even her skull. There was a hole in her neck from where Greyback must have bit her …

I swallowed a moan as I grabbed her broken hand, only to hear her cry out in pain, or perhaps it would have been a cry if her vocal cords hadn't been severed.

"I'm sorry, Lav. Shhh … don't cry. Madam Pomfrey or Professor Slughorn will be here soon, and they'll fix you up just as fast as they can, and you'll never know you were unwell – you'll see!" I tried to sound reassuring as I pressed another compress to her throat.  It soaked through with blood as quickly as the first had.

She closed her eyes and mouthed the word, "Dying."

"No, no you're not – don't think like that! Ron wouldn't like it – you know I think he's still sweet on you even if he won't admit it. You'll make it through this, you'll see," I said as tears slid down my dusty cheeks.  The cuts that I hadn't the spare Dittany to heal stung with their salt.

Lavender opened her eyes for last time, the brown already changing from the color of warm nutmeg to the drab color of tree bark in middle of winter. "Thank you," she mouthed, and smiled gently as a great sighed escaped her body. She breathed no more, and I hadn't the skill to try to restart her heart or give her the breath of life. Sobbing, I held her broken body to me until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Ginny, is she …?" Madam Pomfrey asked, having just reached my side.

I nodded as I laid Lavender's body back on the ground, taking Poppy's hand as she helped me stand.

"There would have been nothing we could have done to save her, Ginny. There are some wounds no one can heal," she said, trying to give me reassurance now as she dabbed a cloth soaked with Dittany on my cheeks. I cried out from the -

* * *

\- pain in my chest.

I clutched the sheets against me. They were wet, as was my pillow, from my sweat and from the tears still rolling down my cheeks. Blindly, I reached out for Harry, and when I felt only the cool sheets on his side of the bed I opened my eyes. He was there, curled up at the edge, his breath even and light as he slept.

Sniffling still, I grabbed my wand and cast a drying charm over my side of the bed before I slid over to him, wrapping my arms around his cool, skinny frame. I shivered when our bodies touched. Harry was so cool when he slept, almost like ice. It provided no comfort; I needed warmth. I looked at my nightstand and saw the half empty glass of wine still there. Moving back to my side of the bed, I greedily tried to drink up the rest of the glass, feeling a dull heat rise to my cheeks as my body began to warm and flush with the false comfort of my faithful friend. I stared at the goblet, swirling the remaining liquid as a car passed by outside. The headlights of a car briefly flashed through a slightly opened curtain into the dark room, and the light made the wine look remarkably like Lavender's blood.

I ran into the bathroom, heaving the contents of my stomach in the -

* * *

_\- toilet._

_Severus rested his head again the cool porcelain, trying to calm the unsteady rhythm of his heart. It was a bad one tonight; he’d fallen out of bed again, probably when he was trying to fight the ghost of Nagini in his dreams._

_He grabbed a glass from the edge of the sink, already filled with water. It was tepid and stale, but enough to get the worst of the bile out of his mouth. Leaning back against the tiled wall, his breathing finally began to slow and his heart steadily eased to the slow, steady rhythm he was used to hearing. He touched his neck, perhaps assuring himself that there indeed was no blood there._

_Standing back up after these episodes was always the hardest part, and it was no easier tonight.   Severus gripped the edge of his bath and hauled himself up to his unsteady feet. He turned around to the sink and applied some gritty paste to his toothbrush, taking his time with the familiar process of carefully cleaning away the vile flavor from every surface of his mouth. The mint sent a chill down his overheated spine._

_Severus looked up in the mirror, an accident really. His appearance made him grimace; he would need yet another shower or bath before going back to bed. As grungy as he had once been when he was dubbed the "greasy git", he no longer could stomach even a speck of dirt on his body, not after waking up in a pool of his own tacky, dusty blood in the Shrieking Shack ..._

_With a flick of his hand he turned on the taps, now desperate for anything that would distract him from the thoughts running through his mind. He stripped off his pants, throwing them in the laundry as he stepped into the burning hot shower. The heat scalded his skin bright pink as he rubbed the coarse flannel over his skin. The homemade soap took his mind to better times, when he was young, newly in love and happy to be in Lily’s presence._

_Seeing her attractive face in his mind, a face that still aroused him even though the burning drive that forced almost twenty years of actions was gone, he felt himself stir. He turned the heat down a little and started to stroke himself, gently at first and then with more force as he -_

* * *

\- trembled as I walked back to bed. The shower had warmed me up, and at least my mouth was fresh again, but I needed him, wanted to feel him against me, inside me, just as a reminder that we were still alive.

"Harry?" I whispered, shaking his shoulder after I got back in bed. A soft snore was the only indication he was even breathing. I wished I could sleep that well, and was often amazed that his potion worked. I'd tried Dreamless Sleep once, but it had only dulled my mind's reaction to the dreams that continued on within my head.

I lay back against my pillow, rubbing my cheek against the cool cloth as I rolled away from him. My hand slid between my thighs, seeking the warmth I hoped to would find. I sighed when the gentle motions did nothing to arouse me and removed my hand, considering getting the heavy salve we used when we were intimate.

"Why bother?" I murmured as I curled into a tight ball, gathering my portion of the red quilt around me as I closed my eyes and -

* * *

**\- tried to make sense of what Shacklebolt was saying.**

**"In a world of Dirigible Plums, the Ministry is the oyster, and you are the pearls," Kingsley said, his deep voice droning on until it sounded like a bee hive.**

**"I don't know about you, but this sounds like a load of tosh to me," Ron said.**

**Harry swatted at him as though he were merely a drone too close to his ear, steadily buzzing along in the wake of the queen.**

**"The Sphinx is all you need in this world," the Minister continued, swatting at something in front of his face as he continued his speech.**

**Ron waved a hand with irritation. "That's a load of rubbish."**

**"You'll end up in Azkaban, next to prisoner AZB24601 if you aren't careful," Harry snapped.**

**Ron paled and turned back in his seat, ignoring him for the rest of the speech. Harry smirked as he pushed his glasses up his nose, swatting again at the buzzing sound in his ear. It almost sounded as though someone was trying to -**

* * *

**\- wake up, Master Harry," Kreacher said, patting him on the arm until he finally opened his eyes. Harry put on the glasses that the house elf gave him, and the world came back into focus.**

**"What's wrong, Kreacher?" Harry asked as he sat up in bed.**  
****

**"Master Harry got an owl from the Ministry," Kreacher said, his hoarse voice sounding even more toad-like than normal today. He handed Harry the letter and took a little step back away from the bed.**

**Harry broke the seal and opened it. Gawain's familiar handwriting was hurriedly scribbled across the parchment:**

**_"Break in the case. May have a location. Come now."_ **

**"Damn," Harry said, looking back at Ginny's sleeping form. "She was looking forward to today, too."**

**"Does Master want Kreacher to – "**

**"Yes, yes," Harry said. "And let her know she might as well go to the hospital if they need her."**

**"Yes, Master Harry," Kreacher said, sniffling as he walked to the door. "Does young Master want anything from the bakery?"**

**Harry shook his head absently as he put the letter on the nightstand, waving his hand at Kreacher to send him on his way. After the door shut softly, he pulled out a Self-Inking Quill from the bedside table, next to the ointment he and Ginny had to use whenever they got around to having sex. He curled his lips when he thought about how completely unaroused she'd been last time … blimey, that must have been six months ago.**

**Quill in hand, he hastily wrote her a note explaining that he'd have to go into the office and to perhaps not expect him back at all this weekend. He'd owl later, of course, and let her know for sure.**

**Harry dressed quietly, not even turning on the bathroom light as he readied himself for work. Robes in hand, he looked down at her just before left the room. She looked so innocent, laying there with her arms around her knees like a babe. Ginny was still so pure of heart, and he wouldn't do anything to her to spoil that. Let her have her occasional fag in the dining room or the red wine she liked to drink, as long as she stayed just as she was, his fiery but unblemished sweetheart.**

**Harry walked down the stairs as Kreacher walked up with a tray that held a glass of water, a cup of milky and sweet tea, and a scone with little red bits in them.**

**"What in Merlin's name is in that thing?" Harry asked, pausing as Kreacher passed him.**

**"Dried strawberry pieces. Miss Ginny's favorite," the elf said as he slowly passed him.**

**Harry tried not to gag as he finished descending the stairs, remembering at least not to slam the front door as he walked into the frigid air outside.**


	6. Breakthroughs

I knew he was gone, even before I reached to his side of the bed. I tried very hard not to cry as I read the note by the bed, but the tears came anyway as I looked over at my breakfast sitting next to me. I drank my water quickly and saw, just like every morning, the steam was rising from my cup of tea; the scone was still warm when I bit into it. I decided it was just the day for breakfasting in bed and drew the covers around my naked body. My tear stained face I wiped with the sheet. Kreacher would be changing them today, so crumbs or additional tears really didn't matter. Harry might not even be home tonight, so it mattered even less to me, and I thought about just smearing the scone into the soft white sheets, letting the red stain them perversely.

I looked at the little alarm clock by the side of the bed. It was six thirty. The floors would be getting busy now as our patients woke. I thought about Floo'ing St Mungo's to see if I was needed anywhere, but in the end I just didn't want to go in. I'd earned this day, had looked forward to it and to this weekend for weeks, and dammit if I wasn't going to enjoy my time off even if Harry wasn't here to enjoy it with me. We hadn't planned on going anywhere - sometimes just being able to laze about in a pair of racy knickers while reading the Prophet was vacation enough - and I decided it still would be for me. My last MediHELL exam, the one that would give me the extra specialization in Potions and Plant Poisoning, was next Friday.  Even if not all the books I wanted were with me, I would make the best of my newly acquired time and study to my heart's content.

Funny. 

I'd found out last night while reading the beginning text that I would have enjoyed Alchemy in school, if I'd realized I needed to take it. It was the only class Professor Snape, or Headmaster Snape the year I would have been a beginner, had still taught that last, terrible year of my formal education. He had always taught it apparently, and Slughorn did not want the class after he’d returned, so even when he was the Dark Arts professor and then the Headmaster, Snape had continued teaching. I couldn't remember anyone who took it.  It was the kind of class Hermione would have signed up for and enjoyed while in school, much like Ancient Runes.

 _Hermione_ … 

Perhaps I would take a break today and have tea with her at the Ministry for a change. We liked the St Mungo's tea room because our cook served better sandwiches, but the cook at the Ministry did make better sweets, and her crackers were completely divine.

I quickly finished my tea and scone and pulled the blankets over me. Outside, Muggles and Wizards alike were bustling to work and school, some out for their morning run. No one could see me, as the house was still invisible to all but perhaps fifteen people, including me and Harry.  Though I loved the privacy of Grimmauld Place, it was like being on one side of a darkened piece of glass that only I could see through. It was odd, having so few visitors and rarely hearing a knock on the door unless it was Hermione or a member of my family. Everyone else who knew our location was dead, except for the very few older members of the original Order who survived the War. Even after all this time, five years of living in this house, I still felt -

* * *

_\- isolated the correct property to advance the potion, thank Heavens, after three weeks of toil and labor over this one simple step. Severus watched liquid in the cauldron thin, turning the color of pumpkin juice.  He could sit in his chair and relax, if only for a brief moment, before going to the next step. It had been worth it in the end, just to come in to the lab after the nightmares of the previous night. At least he'd be able to knock off a bit early today._

_The Sphinx hair had been a needed ingredient, but there had been something else missing that he’d needed to add to relax and open the mind. Valerian root, as well as just a dram of Sloth's brain had done it. Now, the last step would be to induce the sleep, very carefully._

_It would eventually be an improvement on Dreamless Sleep, and a much needed one at that, considering the problems with addiction to the heavily sedating potion. This one, which Severus had not named yet, would allow the user to deconstruct their dream state, especially if they were prone to nightmares, and rebuild their surroundings so that the negative dreams would end permanently._

_He sighed with the terrible knowledge he must not have been the only survivor of the Wars so deeply affected at night. He'd created a potion for the Auror's called Dreamcase that helped them to think about their cases as they slept, instead of dreaming of the worst times when the Ministry had been taken over by the Dark Lord. That formula had been Minister Shacklebolt's own personal request, and Severus had been quietly awarded another Order of Merlin, though only Third Class, for its creation. It went in a box, along with the First Class medal that had been sent to him in Paris._

_Funny._

_Not long ago receiving those very awards had once been on the top of his mind, after finding Black on the school grounds. He'd even plotted a place to hang the coveted medal in his office in the Dungeons. Now he couldn't care less, and just sneered at the ridiculous things whenever he thought about them._

_Still, he couldn't seem to throw them out, either. So in the box they stayed, on the top of his wardrobe._

_He ran a hand through his thick, clean hair and pulled a leather tie out of his pocket to pull it back before he started adding to his notes about the progress he'd made. They would be happy, indeed, with this development. With any luck, the new potion would be ready within the next couple of weeks._

_Notes done, and a little time with nothing to do as the cauldron was simmering with an Alarm Charm set, Severus looked at his wall of essences and extracts. He smiled vaguely as he pulled down the tiny vial orange blossom oil and sniffed it. It wasn't the right scent, and his lab at present had nothing in it that remotely resembled a vanilla biscuit. Nevertheless, he sat back down at his desk, sniffing at the vial from time to time as he tried to chase the fleeting memory that had attempted to come to his mind at the bookstore._

_Severus glanced at the clock on the wall sometime later, and realized it had almost gone noon. He wanted to just skip out for the rest of the day – he'd been here since two in the morning and could save his progress with a stasis charm. But … it was Friday after all, and Friday meant smoked salmon sandwiches and Victoria Sponge._

_He ordered a light lunch of pumpkin soup and stared at the cauldron again, thinking of what might help it bring on the tendrils of deep -_

* * *

**\- sleep," Ron yawned as they looked through the maps again.**

**"I was woken up too, Ron. Drink another cuppa, or run and get some Pepper-up from the supply closet," Harry said as the tiny island popped in and out of view as fast as a game of Exploding Snap, each time in a different location.**

**"Nah, I'll live. Can't live on that stuff you know," Ron said, biting back another yawn as he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his scruffy hair.**

**Harry looked at the red hair on his friend's head and tried not to sigh. He missed Ginny's old hair; the "browning" had taken them both by surprise. Sometimes, if they were at a party and he lost sight of her in a crowd, he didn't recognize her until he saw her face.**

**He glanced up and saw a different redhead standing in the back of the office, delicately stroking the fine scars on her face as she read over the agenda for the trip next week. At least he'd be able to give Ginny tonight … and have this one for a good shag the whole of two weeks away.**

**Ron was sitting this trip out, as he felt it would be better if someone stayed close to the information coming into the office. That was Ron's strong suit, filtering the information with an almost preternatural understanding. He wasn't really a field Auror, especially not after –**

**"It's Victoria Sponge today, isn't it?" Ron said, yawning so deeply that Harry could see his tonsils.**

**"Just like it's been every Friday for the last five years," he replied shortly.**

**"You never know, she did change the sandwiches from cress to salmon a few years ago."**

**"It was always salmon," Harry said, circling the point where the island had been last. "You just were so tired then that you thought Friday was Monday."**

**"Ugh, don't remind me of those times," Ron muttered. He stood and stretched before saying, "Off to the loo, back in a jiff."**

**Harry waved him away before looking back to the redhead in the far corner of the room. She glanced up and smiled at him saucily, making his cock -**

* * *

\- jump at the chance to get some last minute studying done.  Maybe you should see this as a gift," Hermione said. She clasped my hand in hers and fiddled with the garnet ring on my right hand – a gift from my parents when I finished my Apprenticeship at St Mungo's and became full Healer.

"I know I should look at it that way, Hermione, and I'm trying to. I just …" I couldn't finish the thought as tears were already stinging my eyes with as much pain as the dull ache in my heart. I really had been looking forward to the free time with Harry, and it just kept hurting more as the day progressed. I couldn't imagine what this weekend would be like, if he was called away for the duration.

"I know it hurts, Ginny. I couldn't take it in the end, remember?" Hermione scooted her chair around to me just as she had the other day ( _was that really just yesterday?_ ) and slipped her arm around me in a familiar motion that made me feel immediately comforted. She was so warm ...

I leaned into her and breathed in the sweet smell of lilacs and peonies.

"If you get any closer to me, people will think we're lovers," she laughed, but gently kissed my forehead all the same.

"Let them talk," I said. "Perhaps it will give Rita Skeeter something new to write about."

"Now, now," Hermione said, tutting a little as she ate a bite of the cake in front of her. "Hmmm, blueberries. Do you want a taste?"

"No, I think I'll stick with the savories for now – if it were raspberry or strawberry I'd have the biggest slice in the whole of the Ministry," I giggled as I took a sandwich from the tray. I took a little bite and put it back down on my plate before I sat back up, looking around the huge room. "Does Harry ever come down here?"

"The Aurors tend to stay with their own group and work through tea – they really are very dedicated," Hermione said.

I nodded, then caught a brief whiff of the same -

* * *

- _scent he'd come across at Flourish and Blotts yesterday._

_Severus looked around the room – he'd been forced to come up from his pit as his Floo connection was being reorganized – but only saw unfamiliar faces in the crowd. Those faces knew him, of course, and he felt their eyes glaring at him, sneaking little peaks at his neck. He did see one slightly familiar form, even though it was from behind. Only Hermione Granger had that much ridiculously frizzy hair. The dark haired woman next to her seemed remotely familiar though he couldn't place her. Perhaps if he just caught a glimpse of her face …_

_"Your tea, Master Snape?"_

_His grey-headed, ‘old enough to be his grandmother’, friend set a tray in front of him, busying herself with making sure the tea was to his standards._

_"Thank you," he said._

Damn, her name …

_Before she turned away, he finally asked, "What is your name? I'm afraid after all this time, I still don't know."_

_"Mary," she said, flashing him a broad smile and smoothing the hair that was wrapped into a neat little bun. "Mary Abbott."_

_"Thank you, Mary," he said, giving her a tiny smile as she walked away from his table._

_Severus stared at his plate and frowned at the blueberries that he was not overly fond of.  He ate a bite anyway while he poured his tea and added the right amounts of milk and sugar with the same precision he used while making a potion. When he sipped it, it was perfect._

_The room was clearing out now; the Ministry officials needed to go back to their desks to finish up before the weekend. Only he and Granger, along with her friend, remained._

Who was that woman?

_He was distracted by a peck on his hand. A barn owl was sitting on his table, two letters in his beak. The top was addressed to Mr Severus Snape. He took it after tipping the service animal an acceptable amount._

_The letter was from Flourish and Blotts. The books had come in earlier than expected, and he could even come by today if he wanted._

_Folding the letter back into the neat square, he saw that Granger must have received the second letter. No matter. He went back to ignoring the room until the sound of the purest, sweetest laughter he had ever heard traveled to his ears. It wasn't Granger's; he was sure of that after years of dealing with her idiotic antics with Potter. Yet it was familiar all the same._

_It must have come from the companion, but now they were leaving, their backs still to him though he thought for a minute he caught the barest glimpse of her profile before she was gone ... but it could have just been a trick of the light._

_He sighed, wishing he could have seen the face that belonged to that beautiful sound for just one minute._

_Beauty, after all, was so hard to come by._


	7. Convergence

"So where are you headed to now? Back to Number Twelve?"

I shook my head and smiled. "I thought I might go ahead and grab that book at Flourish and Blotts.  It'll give me something to do tonight other than skulk in our bedroom. What about you?"

Hermione blushed a little and looked towards the elevator that would take her back to her office. "I have a date."

"Hoorah!" I said, giving her a big hug. "With who?"

She sighed and kept her eyes hidden, refusing to give me an answer. "You are my closest friend, do you know that? I'm so scared of making a hash of it that I can't even say his name out loud. Give us a date or two, and I promise I will tell you all about it?"

I couldn't help but be a little hurt. Hermione and I told each other everything. We'd been as close as sisters for years now, especially after the War ended. I looked away and murmured, "Tell me all about it when you are ready."

"I promise," she said. She walked into her elevator and was whisked out of sight.

I looked around at the massive Floo system. So many chimneys that would take me wherever I wanted. I chose the one closest to me and pinched a little powder from the pot next to it. "Flourish and Blotts!" I announced as I stepped into the green flame.

I closed my eyes and felt my body twist and turn as I was sent to my destination. I walked out and into the bookstore easily, having finally gotten the hang of the Floo over the past few years. I didn't even have a speck of ash on my heavy black cloak.   When I quickly checked my face in the mirror next to the mantle I saw none there either, only my freckles marred my pale skin. I started to walk to the front desk and stopped when I spotted another customer, similarly cloaked, with longish black hair tied back in a queue.

There was that scent again. The smoke, -

* * *

- _vanilla biscuits, and raspberries. Severus turned around and met the wide brown eyes of Ginny Weasley._

_Then he remembered the day he smelled that fragrance for the first time. It had been the after Welcoming Feast held before his first and only year as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. As he was making a rather depressing and forced speech where he was, as always, acting like a complete bastard, bats suddenly flew out of his nose. That had caused a roar of laughter from the student body, save for his Slytherins who knew better by then._

_The rest had been given no pudding after supper for a month as well as earlier curfews, and the suspected culprit, who was well known for her accurate delivery of that particular hex, had spent every night with him, dusting every last one of Albus's little office oddities, for two solid months._

_On first night Miss Weasley had been so cross with him that she seemed to be mentally giving him the two fingered salute with every swipe of her rag. When he’d bent over her to inspect her work, her sweetly innocent scent had reached his abnormally large nose._

_She didn't look like the Miss Weasley he remembered, and as he took in her darkening hair he realized it had been she who was sitting with Miss Granger earlier. Her hair, which had previously made her stand out in any crowd, now blended in with the rest of the world. Red it still could be called, but now it was almost the shade of her eyes, which had always reminded him of bright, glowing chestnuts._

_The expression on her face, one of curious fright, was definitely not one he ever remembered seeing cross her face.  To calm her, he said with deliberate slowness, "Good afternoon, Mmm …" he saw a ring on one of her fingers, and decided on what he thought to be the correct assumption, "Mrs Potter."_

_The eyes narrowed, and her expression changed to something he was more familiar with – her defiance._

_"Miss Weasley still, Headmaster Snape," she said, and though he figured she was trying to sound cold and sure, it came across as surprisingly timid._

_"Just Master Snape now, Miss Weasley," he said, correcting her from using that hated title._

_She lifted an eyebrow and huffed a breath as though she was about to snort. "How about Mr Snape?"_

_He nodded in agreement. "What brings you to Flourish and Blotts, Miss Weasley?"_

_"I ordered a book that just came in, sir. What about you? I didn't think you let yourself be seen in public if you couldn't help it."_

_"I had an order of my own," he said, deciding to ignore the last statement. He was relieved when the clerk reappeared._

_"I thought I saw you, Miss Weasley," the man said as he divided the books into two piles. "It's not every day that I order the same book for two people – made them come in faster. You getting_ this _text in so quickly was sheer luck, Master Snape," he said, indicating the Dark Arts book._

_Severus nodded and thanked him. He was surprised to see that the book waiting for Miss Weasley was the Seventh Year Alchemy text that he had also ordered._

_"Taking a correspondence course?"_

_She colored as she picked up her purchase, the two red spots on her cheeks very bright against her pale skin. "I'm studying for a MediHELL exam next week, and the text will be useful."_

_"Alchemy shouldn't be needed for the general exam," he observed._

_"It isn't," she said. "I’m studying for a third specialization, and I need it for my Potions and Plant Poisoning exam. I've already passed Spell and Curse Damage and Creature Induced Injuries."_

_He frowned, in both amazement and surprise. "Is there anyone else at St Mungo's that heavily cross trained?"_

_"No," she said, smirking as she glanced down at the text in her hands. "The most anyone else has is two, and at first that was enough.  I decided I wanted a challenge, I suppose."_

_"Indeed," he said. He cautiously walked towards her, trying to give her plenty of room as he moved to stand closer to her still. She glanced down at the books in his hands._

_"I just bought that yesterday – Dark Compounds for the Learned Wizard," she said with some surprise. "It brings up several points about Alchemy that have been very enlightening."_

_Severus could have laughed.  Truth be told, when he realized that she was the carrier of the mystery scent, he should have guessed that she had been the one who bought the book._

_"It's a shame you couldn't have taken Alchemy in school, properly," he said, meaning it. Few students had shown the remotest interest in it, not even the future Healers and Potions Masters who it would benefit the most._

_"Yes, it is. Sir," she agreed._

_He tried very hard not to sneer at her.  It just habit for an old student to call him that, but he was ‘sir’ to no one now.  Ironic, how the sign of respect he once so craved would annoy him so greatly._

_Miss Weasley looked at the clock behind the front desk. "It's dinner, soon. I should be expected home."_

_"Of course," he said. "Where is home, Miss Weasley?"_

_"Grimmauld Place," she said, not meeting his eyes._

_"So you and Potter are …?"_

_"Living together. Have done since the end of the war," she said with a hard little sniff. "I guess you don't keep up with the gossip columns."_

_"I tend to avoid publications that use my name without my permission," he said evenly._

_She tilted her head and looked at him queerly. "I never thought of it that way."_

_"It makes life much simpler," he said._

_"I suppose it does. It was … hmmm … nice, to see you again, sir?"_

_"I suppose it was ‘nice’ to see you too," Severus replied, holding out his hand for her to shake. When her little hand slid into his, he was completely taken about by how -_

* * *

_-_ hot it was, almost branding my skin with the intensity of the heat radiating from his palm. As much as I wanted to immediately pull away from him, I found that I simply couldn't, and for the briefest second I wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms. 

Would he be hot there, too? Would his heat warm my body as I'd been craving …

I pulled my hand back, resisting the urge to wipe it on the woolen fabric of my cloak. When I met his eyes again, they were even blacker than ever. His pupils had dilated as though -

* * *

\- s _omething made him feel alive again. What was it about this girl's simple touch that had done it? He wanted to find out if it was real – to touch her hand just one more time and see if it was a fleeting daydream or perhaps the pathetic yearning of a lonely old man._

_"Would you walk with me outside for a minute?" he asked, holding out his arm._

_"It's freezing out there, sir. I'm amazed it hasn't started sleeting again," she said, shaking her head and shivering._

_"There's no need to call me 'sir' anymore, Miss Weasley," he said, dropping his arm and trying to figure out how to touch her again without scaring her. "Perhaps a cup of tea or a hot chocolate to warm you up? I could walk you to Rosa Lee's."_

_She shook her head again. "I need to get home, Mr Snape."_

_He nodded, trying not to show his reluctance to let her leave as she walked to the hearth and pulled out a handful of powder. "Do you take new -_

* * *

\- patients?" he asked, the expression on his face very blank.

This had really been an odd encounter. Why wouldn't he let me get away? 

I nodded, saying, "Yes, Mr Snape. Building a practice takes patients, you know."

He raised an eyebrow and quirked his head to the side. "Good evening then, Miss Weasley."

"Good evening, Mr. Snape," I said as I threw the powder into the fire. I took a step towards the emerald flame, about to call out my destination when my foot -

* * *

_\- slipped on a loose stone. She fell, though with more grace than one could imagine in such a situation._

_Severus attempted to move to her side, but the clerk made it there first._

_"I’ll get that fixed today, Miss Weasley. I'm so sorry! Are you injured?"_

_"I think I twisted my ankle," she said, lifting the hem of her long cloak and revealing a slender foot shod in a heeled loafer. The ankle indeed looked injured; when she lifted the leg of her trousers it was already beginning to swell. She grabbed her wand from a hidden pocket in her cloak and waved it, as though she were about to cast a charm._

_"Stop, Miss Weasley. Surely you know you shouldn't attempt to heal yourself?" he asked, kneeling next to the clerk. "I know a few Healing Charms, if you would allow me to assist?"_

_She hesitated before slowly nodding her consent._

_He pulled out his own wand and cast a Diagnostic Charm over the foot. Very soft, blue light indicated it was indeed a mild sprain._

_"At least it isn't broken," she said, wriggling her foot slightly before crying out in pain._

_Some unnamable emotion tugged at what was left of his heart as Severus looked at the unshed tears her eyes.  Making a few quick decisions, he decided to heal her nonverbally, and directly over the source of her discomfort. Almost touching her skin, he settled his hands over her foot. "It's the best way to heal a sprain."_

_"I'm aware of that," she said moodily._

_Biting back a laugh now, he placed his hands on her bare skin._

_Merlin's teeth, it hadn't been a fluke. Something about her skin made him feel so alive inside, so -_

* * *

\- hot. Gods above, his hands were like hot irons on my skin, and I wanted to grab his wrists so that he would never stop touching me. Surely the heat was just a side effect, but a Sprain Ease charm should leave me feeling cool and calm. Not hot like this, with warmth traveling up to my freckled knees.

I wanted his hands all over me.  I wanted -

* * *

_\- to be inside her, to feel alive inside her -_

* * *

\- body, and it scared me out of my wits.

I pulled my foot away from his hands and sat up, lowering my robes.  Gingerly, I rotated my foot, feeling that there was no more pain, and the swelling had already eased.

"You could have been a Healer in another life," I said, taking the clerk’s hand instead of Snape's. I tried to ignore the shakiness in my voice and refused to meet his eyes.

"I had thought about it, once," he said, his voice low and soft, like velvet. "Would you like for me to escort you home?"

"No," I said, a little too quickly. I finally met his eyes, which were burning with such intensity that I immediately looked away. "Thank you Mr. Snape," I said, nodding to the manager. Grabbing another pinch of powder, I threw it into the fire, and left as -

* * *

_\- quickly as she could manage, she was gone. Severus stared into the fire with longing as the flames changed back to a deep -_

* * *

\- orange. I shivered as the cool air of kitchen penetrated my cloak and stoked the fire, making it burn hotter, until my skin was hot as it had been under his touch.

"Miss Ginny, Master Harry will be home for dinner tonight," Kreacher said, making me jump and subsequently drop my book on the stone floor.

I smiled at the good news and tried to brush the off the strange encounter. "That's great!" I said and kissed the top of his wrinkled head. "Is he home?"

"He said around seven," Kreacher replied, a deep flush rising to the top of his ears.

I kept smiling as I took my book from his hands and excused myself. When I shut the kitchen door behind me, I let the tremors I'd been suppressing run through my hands. As I leaned against the door, I began to wonder about my choices in life since I met Harry at the age of ten.


	8. Need, Want, and Duty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would not feel right without giving a trigger warning here. What comes next is a description of the painfully bad sex that can happen when a relationship has turned toxic. I don't want to cause anyone a bad dream or a flashback, so if you are hesitant about going on, please wait for Chapter 9.

I ran up to our bedroom to take a shower. My hands shook as I turned the knobs, until the water was as scalding hot as I could stand. Steam filled the room as I leaned against the tile, willing my pulse to slow.  My efforts were futile; it continued to race out of control. I placed my hands to my breast and looked down to see if my heart had broken free of my chest. I was intact, of course, though I was panting as though I'd just run a race.

All of this over Professor Snape, and his touch that had -

* * *

\- _changed his mind about going home. He Apparated out the shop and appeared in the middle of Muggle London, close to the neighborhood were Number Twelve stood invisible to the rest of the world. He walked the residential streets around the block, talking himself out of appearing at the front door and begging her to let him -_

* * *

\- touch myself. I didn't want to, not while thinking of the man who had caused Harry so much pain, but all I could think was the incredible heat that had poured into my body when he touched me. Something inside me had flipped; before now the idea of wanting to touch myself while thinking of Professor Snape would have made me shudder.

I was shuddering now.  But it wasn’t from repulsion; it was from unparalleled desire.

I leaned against the wall and slid my hands between my thighs. I was wet, and for once it wasn't because of the water. That much had been evident when I took off my knickers and saw the little round spots that had made them cling to me as I'd walked up the staircase. My fingers were quick as I rubbed myself to the brink of passion, almost catching it, almost -

* * *

\- _gone completely mad. A beautiful girl like that from an upstanding family – who had been his student for Salazar’s sake – wouldn't want anything to do with him. Besides, she'd been with Potter since they were kids!_

_That feeling when they touched …_

_If he could only find a way to harness it, to bottle it so that he could have it in the palm of his hand and ready for his use; he'd never need another whore again, or run the risk of having his mind taken over by a younger woman who could never want him at all._

_Severus paced the street, much like he had done around Hogwarts on nights when he couldn't sleep, until he found himself in front of a small café about a mile away from where he'd started. He should eat something – maybe his mind was addled from the cake at tea. There was always a little Muggle money in his pocket. Transfiguring his cravat to a less conspicuous but still concealing scarf, and his cloak into a trench coat, he walked into the restaurant and was greeted by a lovely -_

* * *

\- moan when I realized I wasn't going to come after all. I slid down the side of the shower until I sat on the floor and wrapped my arms around my legs, sobbing until there were no tears left to cry.

Why did I even bother, when I knew the outcome would always be -

* * *

\- **the same wine you served her last night, I don't think she liked that one much. There was still half a glass left when I got in," Harry said, looking at the spread on the dining room table.**

**Kreacher had really outdone himself. There was a pork roast surrounded with roasted potatoes, parsnips drizzled with oil, steaming hot rolls with an assortment of honeys, pumpkin soup, and his favorite chocolate cake with little crystalized lavender blooms around the top.**

**"This looks amazing, Kreacher.  Thank you," he said, genuinely touched that the little elf went to so much trouble.**

**"Kreacher hasn't cooked for Master Harry in months. It is Kreacher's honor to prepare a good meal," he said, his toady voice wavering over the last few words as a few tears ran from his eyes.**

**"Now, now, Kreacher," Ginny said, walking in from behind them and stooping to kiss Kreacher's head before giving Harry a quick peck on the cheek.**

**Harry frowned at that.  She should have kissed him first.**

**Honestly.**

**"Kreacher will get some wine for Miss Ginny," he said, looking embarrassed as he cracked out of the room and back in again with a dark bottle in his hand.**

**"My favorite," she said, smiling as he left the bottle on the table and left the room quietly. She smoothed the skirt of her dress and said, "Hello, Harry."**

**She did look beautiful tonight. Her dress was a flat, black fabric that clung to her like a second skin, and showed off the swell of the breasts he'd once so loved to suck. He caught a glimpse of red in the neckline, and felt his lip curl at the idea of her wearing red knickers like a tramp.**

**"Hello Ginny," he replied, walking to her and taking her in his arms. He kissed her lips, sliding his tongue -**

* * *

\- in my mouth was an unwelcome intrusion, so fast into the first seconds of kissing. I'd never liked to be kissed like that; I liked slow kisses where he took his time and nibbled my lips for a bit before he dove in.

Perhaps he missed me as much as I missed him, and that thought made me give in to the demanding mouth and tongue that felt like they might bruise me if he continued for too long.

"Let's eat," he whispered in my ear, his cool breath making me shiver against him, though not in passion or desire.

We served our plates and sat, with him at the seat at the end of the table that I had become accustomed to occupying. I sat next to him, on the left, facing the window that looked into the unseeing outside world.

"How was your day?" he asked, his mouth full of meat and veg.

I looked away with a little disgust before I answered. "Good. I ended up staying home and studying, and then I had tea with Hermione and went … to … " 

Damn. 

I didn't want to tell him about my encounter with Professor – no – Mr Snape. Harry didn't allow his name to be spoken in the house; he'd grown to hate him more than ever, after that brief period where he was grateful for the protection over his life. He was unable to stomach the thought of the love Snape had for his mother. 

Especially after it hit the gossip columns.

"Where?" he asked, his green eyes flashing with curiosity as he poured me a second glass of dark red wine.

I took a gulp of it, swallowing carefully before I replied, "To Flourish and Blotts to pick up a book I ordered on Alchemy."

"Why do you need to know about Alchemy?" he asked. "Nostalgic for stinking, dingy classrooms and greasy haired arseholes with affections for dead women?"

"No. I need to study it for my exam next week," I said lamely, drinking in another big swallow of the wine that was quickly warming my cheeks.

"What exam?"

I bit my lip and frowned, setting down the glass and looking at my full plate of food. "It's just something for work is all," I lied as I began to pick at my dinner.

"See anyone you know while you were out?" he asked as he helped himself to another spoon of potatoes.

"No," I said, shaking my head as though it were the truth. "Not everyone recognizes me another since …" I trailed off, pointing to my hair and shifting on the green satin cover of the chair. I looked at my reflection in the window, and again thought that the person looking back at me was a -

* * *

\- _stranger than the dinner he was seeing happening before him. Severus watched Miss Weasley, sadder than he'd ever remembered another person looking, save his own mother after a beating, pick over the decadent looking meal before her, drinking goblet after goblet of wine as Potter spoke endlessly to her, barely letting her get in a word._

_The charm had never been lifted, he'd realized that as he walked to the strangely numbered houses on Grimmauld Place. Then he'd thought of the home, and of the address that had been given to him by Albus so many years ago, and suddenly it shifted into view. He’d felt like a voyeur when he flicked his wand and disappeared like a chameleon under the guise of a Disillusionment Charm, but he just …_

_He_ had _to see her, and watch her as she -_

* * *

\- cried. "Two weeks?"

"It won't seem like that long. To finally find Macnair and Mulciber and snuff out two more Dark Wizards! Ginny, you have to set your mind on the bigger picture."

I tried to see it, but You Know Who had been gone for so long now that it didn't seem to matter that two of his minions were still scurrying about without a Master. I dabbed my eyes with my starched white napkin and silently wept as Harry finished his dinner in a slight huff before moving on to the chocolate cake.

"Want some?" he asked.

I shook my head and drank the rest of the wine, thankful that a dull fog was setting in.

"It just seems like the War will never be over," I said, switching to water so I wouldn't get completely sloshed. Harry didn't like that.

"One step at a time, and two steps closer very soon," he said. I stared at the smear of brown frosting on his chin blankly.

"Oh, Merlin, please let that be true," I said morosely as I put my head in my hand and -

* * *

_\- wept at the sight of her misery if he were a different man._

_Potter seemed not to care. He was so indifferent and cold to her, had been since he snogged her so hard that her lips still looked irritated from it._

_They stood up after he finished his cake, and the elf came in and cleared the table. Severus guessed at their destination, and before he knew what he was doing he climbed the standard issue fire escape up to the second floor._

_The heavy drapes of Mrs Black’s old bedroom were partially opened, revealing a comfortable looking room with large, four poster bed. The heavy red quilt screamed ‘Gryffindor!’ in a house that was otherwise still very Slytherin, despite the homey touches of pictures and photographs that he assumed Miss Weasley must have added._

_He watched them enter the room, Potter slipping up behind her and nibbling the white hollow where her neck and shoulder met, exposed by the racy dress she wore. He heard her giggle and speak softly. It surprised Severus that this room was not charmed to be soundproof, out of all the rooms in the house this one would seem the most necessary. He the oversight was not a horrible thing at all when he heard her moan, the sound going straight to his -_

* * *

\- **cock pressing into the hollow of her lower back.**

**"You want to see if we remember where everything goes?" he asked, listening to her giggle lightly.**

**"I'm game if you are," she said, moaning softly when he slipped his hand into her neckline and squeezed her breast gently at first, and then with more force as her moans got louder.**

**He tugged the dress over her head and looked at her body, clad only in the red undergarments that should have turned him on, but only left him feeling hollow and a little angry that she felt the need to tart it up with him so -**

* * *

- _beautifully clad in undergarments crafted by the obvious hand of a master. He was harder than he'd ever been in his life as he watched her remove them, revealing full, soft breasts that were tipped in pink. Severus couldn't help but notice that her nipples were not hard or swollen at all, they were still as soft as the rest of the skin around it._

_Confused, he peered in closer before he could feel too much like a pervert at a peep show; he'd worry about those emotions later, after a few drinks. He couldn't help but want to know … and when she turned slightly he saw that the still ginger hair between her thighs was dry, the folds there as dry as her brow and chest._

_Why wasn't she aroused? What was Potter doing that left her so completely -_

* * *

\- devoid of an emotion as Harry sucked on my neck. I moaned as I knew I was supposed to, sighed in all the right places as he squeezed and nibbled on my skin.

He was so cold, save for the mouth that never travelled past my navel – and not even there anymore. He said time and time again it was unseemly, and that he refused to treat me like a whore, though he motioned for me to sink to my knees in front of his to suck his cock completely into hardness. I took him in my mouth, sucking the way he liked and running my tongue along the veins as he -

* * *

\- f _elt his knees weaken as she sucked him off. What would it feel like if it was his cock in her mouth? If it was anything like the way her skin felt in his hands, he didn't know if he'd be able to stand it. But it was the look on her face, the flat look of duty, that made him still and his cock soften. She obviously didn't like it, so why was she even -_

* * *

\- **fucking Hell, she did have a perfect mouth, the best he'd ever had on -**

* * *

\- my knees, doing what I must to get it over with.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded and smiled as he slipped from my mouth, removing the rest of his clothes. The quilt was warm on my bum as he walked to me, his shaft still glistening with my spit as it bobbed with each step.

"Don't you need your …?" he asked, motioning to the drawer.

"Yes," I said. We'd learned the hard way a few years ago when it stopped being good, that we couldn't proceed without the -

* * *

\- **jar of ointment from her hands and opened it, spreading it over his cock with smooth, even strokes.**

**"Everything okay?" he asked, lips twitching as her crawled onto the bed as she spread her legs, rubbing the ointment on herself now.**

**She looked up at him and bit her lip. "You could … help. I-I read in a magazine that if we do more before –"**

**"No, Gin. Aren't you turned on enough by the snogs?"**

**"What if it –"**

**"You aren't a whore, and I'm not going to touch you like one." Those touches were left for the nameless, faceless many who he didn't come home to at night and didn't have to look in the eye the next day.**

**Her eyebrows tugged together as she nodded and said, "Right."**

**Harry frowned as he knelt between her thighs and roughly pulled her legs around his hips, sinking his cock into her slightly sticky cunt.**

**Fuck, she was tighter than he remembered her being. It was so good, felt so -**

* * *

\- bad. I knew I hadn't been aroused enough, and I was too tight. He didn't realize my cries were moans of -

* * *

\- _pain. Why wouldn't that idiot see she was hurting as he pounded into her without a care for her wellbeing?_

_Severus shook, literally shook, with the need to take over and show her what pleasure could feel like. He wanted to know how she would look when she -_

* * *

\- trembled beneath him with the urge to tell him to stop, but he was close, and it would be better to just let him finish. I threw my head back, exposing my white throat as I sighed and moaned again, giving him a smile as I -

* * *

\- _faked it. And Potter didn't even notice that it was all a show. He came with a shout before finally pulling off of her.  After giving her a quick kiss, he walked to a room which must have been their bathroom and closed the door._

_Severus watched Ginny as she rolled to her side and sobbed quietly. Touching the glass with his bare hand, he leaned his forehead against the smooth pane as she cleaned the ointment from between her legs._

_The white handkerchief in her hand was streaked with pink and red when she was done._

_When Potter walked back into the room, she hid the cloth under the mattress.  With another dazzlingly false smile, she rolled over to face him as he charmed the light away._

_Slowly, and carefully, Severus descended the fire escape.  Still invisible, he crept to the closest alleyway he could find before he vomiting his dinner into a rubbish bin._


	9. Examinations and Ruminations

**_Snape Spotted in Diagon Alley Bookshop  
_ ** **_by Rita Skeeter_ **

**_It has come to my attention that none other than Severus Snape (former Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin First and Third Class, Potions Master for the Ministry of Magic, and formerly the Right Hand Man to YOU KNOW WHO), was spotted last Friday in Diagon Alley, purchasing a Dark Arts book at Flourish and Blotts._ **

**_The anti-hero, who rarely is seen in public and is even more rarely seen at his post in the Ministry, apparently Apparated right out of the store after helping Ginny Weasley heal her ankle after she took nasty spill, poor girl._ **

**_Hmmm … I wonder where on Earth he was going, since of course he hasn't been seen since. Could it have been that chance meeting which put such a sweet smile on Ginny's face, something her co-workers aren't so used to seeing anymore, when she came back in to work?_ **

**_On Monday._ **

**_After not being seen at all that weekend herself, not even by -_ **

* * *

\- my wit's end, that woman really has to stop it, doesn't she? Do you want me to file the injunction now?" Hermione threw the magazine into the fireplace next to our table.

I sat quietly for a minute, watching the flames lick Skeeter's simpering face.  "No, it's fine," I finally said, still staring into the flames as Hermione threw up her hands in irritation. "I've said it before Hermione, it'll only make it worse."

"Why are you so good?" she asked, grabbing another cucumber sandwich.

"It's all I know how to be anymore," I whispered, wondering what happened to the -

* * *

_\- fire crackling as Severus sat at his desk._

_Silently, he counted six small crackers neatly stacked on the corner of his plate, four vanilla biscuits filled with raspberry jam, and a half a cream cheese and tomato sandwich that Mary should have realized that he wouldn't ever eat._

_Quirking his lips, he picked up the biscuit, then staggered as he breathed in it’s sweet, warm scent._

_Miss Weasley._

Ginny _… -_

* * *

\- hello? Earth to Ginny?" Hermione said, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly as I turned back to face her.

"Sorry, 'Mione," I said.  “All the biscuits have addled my mind, I guess.”

"How much longer do you have to work today? You look exhausted," she remarked, taking a sip from the delicate china cup in her hands.

I pulled out my schedule and looked at the list of names. "I've only got one more patient to see in the clinic before I can knock off." He would a new client; not surprising of course, since the majority of my clients were new. The notes next to Michael Fitzpatrick's name said that he had a bad incident with a Magical Creature a few years ago.

"Have you not been sleeping well without Harry?" she asked, studying me carefully over the cup.

I shook my head and looked away, not liking to tell fibs even if this one was half true.  Even if he couldn't provide any comfort to me in his medicated sleep, just knowing Harry was there was helped.  The dreams had been worse since he left. I tried to blame running into Snape for that, but the truth is the dreams were always worse when I was alone, or had any kind of stress going on in my life.  "No, I haven't been.  It wasn’t helped that studying for the exam tomorrow has been consuming me."

"Little Ginny Weasley, soon to be the Premier Healer in all of St. Mungo's," Hermione said proudly as she stood up to bid me goodbye. "We'll have to celebrate your success, when I get back from the mini-break."

"I hope your parents are well. Send them my love," I said, standing as well.  

Hermione pulled me into a warm hug.  "I will. Please don't forget that they still want to look at your teeth the next time you come with me for a visit. I know it's weird, but it's how they show their love," she said as she squeezed me so tight that I almost lost my breath.  When she let me go, her warmth stayed with me, even after she walked away.

I sat back down and poured myself one more cup, hoping this one would put a little more spring in my step. Then I very covertly lit one of the clove fags I'd been saving and leaned back against the chair. I didn't as much smoke it as I enjoyed the scent it released as it burned -

* * *

**\- his insides.**

**Why the bloody hell hadn't Ginny told him that she'd run into that nasty piece of shite? She'd lied to him, and he didn't understand why.**

**But he was going to find out.**

**With no grace at all, he marched into Gawain’s makeshift office at the safe-house.  "Can you spare me for the night?" Harry asked.**

**Gawain regarded him carefully before he replied, "Why?"**

**"I'm just worried about Ginny is all. I haven't been away from her for this long since we started living together," Harry said, Occluding his thoughts as best he could.**

**His senior inhaled deeply as he looked at the parchments in front of him. "One night, Potter, and you are to be back here before dawn even breaks."**

**"Thanks, sir," Harry said, turning to go back to his room to get his traveling cloak.**

**"Potter.”**

**Harry turned back around and waited for him to speak.**

**"You and Ginny both have to learn that if you want to be a field agent, there are going to be times when you are away. It could be a few days, or even a few months. As it is, we're going to have to stay another week, and I won't let you leave again. You both need to prepare for this kind of life."**

**"Yes, sir," Harry said, turning around again.**

**"Potter?"**

**He just turned his head around this time. "Yes?"**

**"Don't ever lie to me again, boy," Gawain said, snuffing out the fag he'd been smoking as he looked back down at the parchment sitting -**

* * *

\- before me was not "Michael Fitzpatrick". The big smile on my face froze into place as I tried not to show my shock.

The man sitting in my exam room, dressed entirely in black, was Severus Snape.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

He looked at me nervously, the light in his black eyes flickering as he held his hand out to me. I ignored it and busied myself with trying to ready myself for the exam, pulling out gauze and other things I may or may not need from the cabinet next to us.

"I've been seeing a Healer at St Charmaine's since …" he said.

"I’m aware of that.  I did read your file," I said, picking it up again and showing it to him as though he required proof.

He smiled wanly and nodded. "It's time for my yearly checkup.  I didn't wish to travel as I have a potion in a critical stage, so I decided to establish my care here."

"Who is Michael Fitzpatrick?"

The smile dulled even more before it left his face altogether. "It's what called myself when I lived in Paris and worked at St Charmaine's, making their potions. Michael is my middle name, and Patrick was my father's middle name. I was conceived out of wedlock," he finished, shrugging as he fiddled with a piece of lint on his thigh.

I was amazed he was telling me all this, but then again whenever I donned my Healers robes, it seemed like my patients could tell me anything and everything about their life. Even Mr Filch, who once told me about his childhood sweetheart who had died in the first War.

"I'll need to examine you, sir," I said, motioning for him to remove his cravat and unbutton his coat and shirt.

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily as he did so, patiently unbuttoning the long line of -

* * *

\- _damn buttons. He realized he should have worn a simpler coat today, but oh no, he wanted to keep playing his part and look as -_

* * *

\- practically naked, even if he was still in his pants and shirt, his cravat still wound snuggly around his neck.  I turned around and hid my blush as I pulled a bottle of Dittany out of the drawer as well as some Soothing Balm.

"Your cravat and shirt too, and you'll need to sit on the bed again," I murmured, controlling my blush by taking deep breath.  This man was my patient, and regardless of who he was or had been, I was going to be the professional woman I knew myself to be.  Regardless of his hands, and what they could -

* * *

_\- do to him, seeing her in those shapeless robes and wondering what her body might look like beneath them.  Severus felt himself twitch and closed his mind, though he would revisit those thoughts later.  For now he cleared his throat, wanting to see her face and know that he -_

* * *

\- turned around and saw the scar. It was not the worst I'd seen after five and a half years at St Mungo's. 

But it was very, very close.

"It's terrible, isn't it?" he asked, trying to make a joke of it, though the humor died the second the words left his mouth.

"Does it still hurt?"

He shook his head. "The skin gets tight from time to time.  There was nothing there when I was delivered at their door ...” Mr Snape cleared his throat again, his eyes tightening slightly before he continued.  “My Healers regrew my skin, but the muscle was too damaged from the cursed venom, hence the –"

"Hollow appearance," I said.   The left side of his neck was caved in at least two centimeters, the skin very white and shiny.  I finally moved from my post at the cabinet and stood next to him, close enough notice the fine silver strands streaking his hair.  He took a deep breath when I leaned in to examine his neck.  

"Have you tried any treatment in the Muggle world? I don't normally recommend it, but they have an injection that might ease it some."

He shook his head. "Tried it once. It remains the same."

"I'm so sorry, Mr Snape," I said, reaching out so that I could … 

Oh gods, I would have to touch him. Surely it had been a fluke, some weird reaction caused by the charm or by my lunch. I took in a steadying breath and raised my hands, pressing them to his -

* * *

- _neck, and by gods everything within him felt completely alive again, as though he could burst open just from her touch. He moaned, making her startle.   Her touch became lighter, as though she might move her hands. Without thinking, he grabbed her wrists and gazed up at her, sighing as she looked at him and -_

* * *

\- burned under his touch, I was burning all over this time, and the fire licking my groin now as the heat burned through every part of my body.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked,.  My voice shook, and I tried to pull away again.

He shook his head and kept a firmer grip on my wrists. "No," he said, the voice vibrating under my hands, sending waves of pleasure through my -

* * *

\- _body. He tried to talk himself out of getting hard, but there was nothing he could do to stop it with her in the room._

_"Why did you come to see me today?"_

_"You are the most qualified Healer here," he said smoothly, watching a tremor pass through her again. It was then that he realized his touch must be affecting her as much as -_

* * *

\- he did to me.  As he spoke, his breath quickened and the tone of his voice became deeper and more erotic.

I finally pulled away and turned around, putting my hands to my face so that I could calm myself. How could I be feeling this way about this man?  It made no sense -- no sense at all!  I loved Harry, had been in love with him for almost half my life.  My handsome man who, despite our problems, would walk through fire for me.  This man ... Snape of all people ...

I turned to face him, not feeling a bit better, and saw his fingers were at his neck, just touching the spot where my hands had been.  I took in his appearance, all of it, not only his terrible scar.  How could he compare with my Harry?  Features too angular, skin pale now though no longer the unhealthy shade it had been in school, deep lines around his eyes and mouth.  No longer a young man, though young was something I never saw him as.  But the way he made me feel, just with the lightest touch of his fingers ... I tried not to tremble, even though my mind started to wander to thoughts of what his hands could do everywhere else as he whispered wonderful things in my ear.  

He spoke again, pulling me completely back to the now.  “Is there anything new that you would recommend, Miss Weasley?”

"I … I … I don't know if there's much I can do at this visit. It's healed, but with the problems you are still having I'd like to research a few things and have you come back," I said, pulling a card out of my pocket and tapping it with my wand. "I have my exam tomorrow morning, but I can see you tomorrow afternoon if you can make it. It would be after tea again I'm afraid." I gave him a false, bright smile as he took the card from my hand.

"That's fine," he said quickly, putting the card in his -

* * *

\- **pocket, patting his wand.**

**He looked around the empty house.  Ginny would be home soon; she never had to work past six. After asking Kreacher to make his French Onion soup and leave it in the icebox for later, he climbed the stairs and waited for her to -**

* * *

\- celebrate after you pass your exam tomorrow?" Mr. Snape asked as he rewound the cloth around his neck.

I frowned. "Who said I would pass?"

"Won't you?" he said, giving me a wink that set another spark up my overheated spine.

"I guess a drink would be nice, as long as we go somewhere that's … not …" I got flustered with having to tell him I didn't want to be recognized going out with him.

"I understand. We'll go to a Muggle pub for a drink and perhaps dinner, if that's okay with you."

I hesitated for a moment.  Just a drink.  Just a drink _and_ dinner.  Nothing more. 

Unless ...

"Yes," I said in a rush.

"Tomorrow then," he said, touching his hand with mine one more time, branding me again before he -

* * *

\- _did one of the hardest things he'd ever done and left her there, standing by the exam bed, looking so confused and so beautiful that he couldn't stand not taking her with him._


End file.
